


Five Times Obi-Wan Grieves & One Time He Doesn't Have To

by WanderingAlice



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief, Obi-Wan/Anakin if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingAlice/pseuds/WanderingAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like it says on the box, five times Obi-Wan grieves in one way or another, and one time he doesn't have to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Obi-Wan Grieves & One Time He Doesn't Have To

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a post from the jediprompts tumblr. This is the first thing I've been able to write in like a month, and it turns out to be an angsty character study thing about poor Obi-Wan. Thanks for reading!

> **1\. Denial**

He’s just a kid when he learns about families, about parents and siblings and aunts and uncles. He asks the masters at the temple on Corsucant about them, and an elder master sits down with him and talks about how they work, how people fall in love and make a family, how children are born into families, how sometimes people choose their own families. He asks questions, and she answers them without hesitation. 

He asks her if she has a family, and she looks down, a little sadly, and tells him no, she doesn’t. 

He asks if he will ever have one. She shakes her head. “No, young one. Jedi do not have families, attachments are forbidden.”

He stares at her, unwilling to believe what she’s said. But she won’t look at him, and he can feel that she’s told him the truth. “No!” he shouts. “No! I’m going to have a family, you’ll see!” He storms out of the room, barely holding in his tears. 

None of the masters can find him for hours, until Master Qui-Gon climbs up to his hiding place and leans back against the wall. He says nothing, waiting for Obi-Wan to make the first move.

“They said I can’t have a family,” Obi-Wan eventually mumbles from where he’s pressed his face into his knees. Qui-Gon comes to sit next to him.

“I know,” Qui-Gon tells him, resting a warm hand on his back. 

“It’s not fair!” Obi-Wan tells him. “Why can’t we have families?”

Qui-Gon pulls him close, lets him cry into his robes and pour out his grief. At last, when his tears are all spent, Obi-Wan looks up at the master, expecting a reprimand. Instead, he sees understanding in his face.

“She was wrong, you know,” he tells him. Obi-Wan blinks, confused.

“Who?”

“The master who told you Jedi don’t have families. We don’t have traditional families, no brothers or mothers or grandparents. But we do have each other. A family is a group of people who look out for each other. And isn’t that what Jedi do?”

“Oh!” Obi-Wan understands. “So… we’re like a family?”

“That’s right” Qui-Gon nods, smiling.

“Then… will you be my father?” Obi-Wan asks hopefully.

Qui-Gon laughs. “I’m not sure it works like that, Obi-Wan.”

* * *

> **2\. Anger**

Anakin is just a kid. Nine at most. Obi-Wan looks at him as he settles him into his room on the ship, and wonders just what his master is thinking. The kid is… he’s energetic, inquisitive, intelligent. But there’s something… not quite right. He’s too old to begin training, but Qui-Gon is convinced of his talent. It might be that the council will agree with him, and allow him to take Anakin on as a padawan. He’s not sure what will happen to him if that happens. Perhaps he will be made a master. Somehow, he’s sure what he wants isn’t going to be considered in this matter. He wonders if anyone ever stopped to consider what Anakin wanted. 

He hears a sniff, and looks to find the boy hunched over his bag. Moving closer, he can see he’s crying, and feel the pain rolling off him in waves.

“Anakin? What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan asks, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder like Qui-Gon always did for him when he was upset. Anakin cringes, like he’s expecting to be hit. 

Obi-Wan crouches down next to him so that he can look up at the boy’s face. “It’s okay,” he reassures him. “You can talk to me.”

Anakin sniffs again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I… I miss my mom. I wish Master Qui-Gon had bought her too.”

“No one has bought you, Anakin, you’re free,” Obi-Wan tells him. “And I’m sure your mother will be just fine. Maybe you’ll even come back to see her again soon,” Obi-Wan says, even as his heart breaks for the boy. He remembers his childhood disappointment when he learned he couldn’t have a family, how much it had hurt, and he had never known what it was like. What must it be doing to Anakin, to have known it and leave it behind.

“I’d like that,” Anakin says, still sniffling. 

“Will you be alright?” Obi-Wan asks him, unsure of what to do.

Anakin searches his face for something, biting his lip. And then he slowly shakes his head. “I… I’m scared. What’ll happen to me if they decide I can’t be a Jedi?”

Obi-Wan comforts him as best he can. After a time, the boy falls asleep and Obi-Wan is left with the company of his own thoughts. He grieves for this boy, who seemed so self-assured when he arrived. He’s learned to put walls around his feelings, to only show what others expect him to feel. It was only when he’d thought he was alone that those walls came down, and Obi-Wan only happened to be there to catch it. What would have happened, if he hadn’t been? Would Anakin have kept his grief bottled up until it burst? Or would he have been forced to grieve alone, thinking no one cared for him? How could Qui-Gon do that to him? Just uproot him from everything and everyone he’d ever known. He was only _nine_  for force’s sake!

And how could Qui-Gon do this to _him_? He was still Qui-Gon’s padawan. He still needed a master to teach him until he was ready to undergo the trials. He looked up to Qui-Gon like a father, but fathers should take into account how their children feel about changes. Qui-Gon just brought Anakin onto the ship and into their lives without even thinking about Obi-Wan. Whatever happened, their time as master-and-student would end as soon as Qui-Gon took Anakin as his padawan. And he hadn’t even thought to ask Obi-Wan if that was alright. Did he even care?

The anger boiled inside him, a tangled knot of grief and rage he’d be hard pressed to untie. He pushed it down, trying to contain it the way a good Jedi should. He needed to meditate, to calm his heart and work through it. Obi-Wan forced himself to take a deep breath and settled into a crossed-leg position on his bed. Of course, that would be when Qui-Gon opened the door. 

The argument that followed was fought in heated whispers and pointed glares, until Obi-Wan had exhausted all his emotions. Later Qui-Gon had quietly apologized for not considering his padawan, and Obi-Wan apologized for letting his temper get the best of him. They talked about what was going to happen next, for all three of them. And then, they arrived at Coruscant. And soon, everything went to hell.

* * *

> **3\. Bargaining**

Qui-Gon faced the Sith on Naboo alone. Obi-Wan watched, trapped behind a barrier he could not breach, as his master fell. He knew what had happened, even before he felt Qui-Gon’s life-force disappear, and part of him screamed like a small child. He locked that part away, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. The time for grief would come later. But still, there was a voice inside his head saying _if you can do this, if you can kill this Sith, maybe Qui-Gon won’t be dead. I’ll be a better student. I’ll take care of Anakin. I’ll listen to everything he says, if only he won’t be dead._

Sometimes, at night, even years after Qui-Gon has passed, Obi-Wan will catch himself wondering if he could have done something to save him. If he had just been faster, a better warrior, smarter, luckier, _anything_ , maybe he could have saved him. He would give up anything, just to go back and re-write time so that Qui-Gon did not have to die. Later, when Anakin is gone and Vader is all that remains of his former student, Obi-Wan will wonder again what he could have done. He would still give up anything, even his own life, to go back to that day on Naboo and save Qui-Gon’s life. Qui-Gon, he is sure, would never have failed Anakin so badly. So, really, in letting Qui-Gon die he has failed twice over. Once, for Qui-Gon, who should have lived. And once for Anakin, who deserved a better master. _Please,_ he prays, not even sure to whom he is praying any more, _please take me instead. Take my life, so Qui-Gon never has to die._

* * *

> **4\. Depression**

The war is over. Lost. Just as Anakin is lost. Obi-Wan - no, Ben. Ben Kenobi remains on Tatooine, to watch over the child his former padawan will never know. There is little he can do now, but protect the boy. He has failed. Everything he ever worked for is gone, destroyed. He does not know why he still lives when everyone he ever cared about is dead. Some days, it takes all his energy to even get out of bed. Some days, he begins to wonder why he should. He has no purpose, no reason to live. On other days, the grief is so strong it chokes him. 

Luke and the other local children know him as ‘crazy old Ben.’ He can’t bring himself to care. It’s better this way. He shouldn’t form attachments. Shouldn’t be close to anyone. After all, he’s learned by now that everything he loves will be taken from him. 

Silence is a blessing. Out in the desert, it is quiet. Nobody reminds him of what he once was. Of what he once had. Some days, words are hard to form. They don’t want to come, his throat refuses to make the sounds he needs. Quiet is easy on those days. He doesn’t have to speak, when he’s alone with his thoughts. With his ghosts. Some days, he wonders if he himself isn’t a ghost, forever doomed to roam the desert in penance for his sins. 

* * *

> **5\. Acceptance**

Darth Vader stands before him, and all Obi-Wan can see is Anakin. The boy he loved like a brother. The person he failed the most, out of all the people he failed over the course of his life. It would be easier, he thinks, if all he could see was the black suit and the mask. If all he knew was the evil. If he didn’t remember the good. But he can’t help it. This is Anakin, or what is left of him. He failed, let his friend be lured to the dark side, and then couldn’t even properly finish him to save what was left of the Jedi order, or even only Padme. 

What remains now is two broken men. Time and grief have made their mark on both, etching lines into his face, pushing Anakin ever further from the light. This is his fault, and he knows it. But here, now, standing face-to-face with Anakin, Obi-Wan understands that there was nothing he could have done to prevent this. This was always going to be the outcome. He cannot change it now, just as he could not change it so many years ago when Qui-Gon died. What is done is done. 

His thoughts turn to Luke and Leia. They, at least, have a chance. He can feel Luke somewhere in the station, rescuing his sister. They will escape. Gods willing, they will have a chance to end this war, and bring peace to the galaxy. He’s only known Luke for a short time, but he knows he can do it. The boy is strong in the force, and he has a good heart. Given half a chance, he will do great things. But now, well, now it is up to Obi-Wan to give him that chance. He must fight Anakin. 

He knows how this battle will end, even before it begins. Anakin was always a good swordsman, their skills had always matched perfectly. But now, Anakin has honed his skill even more, years of duels as the emperor’s pawn have taught him more than Obi-Wan ever did about killing with a lightsaber, while Obi-Wan spent those years practicing with no one. He knows his skills have become rusty with disuse. He is no match for Anakin now. For Luke to escape, he will have to face Anakin, and he will die. He swings his lightsaber. This is how it has to be. Perhaps this is how he finally atones for his mistakes. When the killing blow comes, he closes his eyes and lets it come.

* * *

> **+1**

Death is strange. He has become one with the force, using it to guide Luke along his path. He is so much more now, a part of everything that is. A living being could not possibly comprehend it. He feels the ebb and flow of the force, the living energy that ties all life together. Knowledge and acceptance take the place of his grief, filling the hole in him with the understanding that it is not his fault. The universe is bigger than him and Anakin, bigger even than the Jedi order. No one man, however important, could cause this to come to pass. And no one man will end it, either. That is not how the galaxy works. 

He watches Luke as he trains, as he fights, and as he prepares to confront Vader. Luke succeeds where he failed. In the end, Anakin cannot let the emperor kill his own son. Obi-Wan feels the change in him when he turns back to the light, ripples of the choice echoing down the force throughout the galaxy. Palpatine dies, but not before mortally wounding Anakin. Obi-Wan watches as Luke tries still to save him, not knowing he already has.

When Anakin dies, he feels it. He knows the very moment his apprentice becomes one with the force. It is not much longer before he feels a presence at his side. He turns, and sees Anakin there, hesitant, sorrowful, afraid. 

“Master,” Anakin greets him, and Obi-Wan cannot hold back his joy. He allows waves of his love and acceptance to crash over Anakin, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man is welcome here, with him.

“Anakin,” he says, the words thick with emotion. “Welcome home.”


End file.
